His Words, My Heart
by LadyRiona
Summary: It's Valentine's Day, and Meggie is welcomed home with a written treasure map.  What awaits her at the end?  More appropriately, who?


**Disclaimer: I do not own _Inkheart_, as unfortunate as that is for me. Therefore, I gain nothing from the publishing of this story except the satisfaction of actually writing it.**

**Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day! I had this cute idea in my head today and decided to run with it. Hope you enjoy it. There isn't a LOT of background in it, since it's just fluff, so don't think too much on the lack of explanation on some things. Just enjoy. ;)**

**Title: His Words, My Heart  
>Rating: K+<br>Pairing: Dustfinger/Meggie  
>Summary: It's Valentine's Day, and Meggie is welcomed home with a written treasure map. What awaits her at the end? More appropriately, who? <strong>

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><p>Meggie looked down at the paper in her hands, curiosity written on her face. On the paper, in her mother's delicate hand, was a short, puzzling note. If she was correct in her assumption, it was a clue, the beginning of either a scavenger hunt or a written treasure map. The young woman reread it several times, feeling more confused each pass her eyes made. The note simply read:<p>

"_In the garden you will find,_

_An object, one of a kind,_

_Hidden in leaves,_

_Covered in sleeves,_

_It will be a delightful bind."_

With a surreptitious glance to the side, Meggie tucked the limerick into her pocket and looked at her mother. Resa was laughing at smiling at Mo, who was presenting to her a bouquet of red and orange roses. Squeezing her eyes shut, Meggie watched them for a moment. It was her first day back home after a six month internship at a magazine company. She had been a column writer, aptly assigned a weekly article about "books that came to life right off the page," or so the editor had put it. The internship had been in London and had recently transferred her to the branch nearest Milan. Meggie loved the opportunity she had to put her foot in the door of the great world of writing, but she was extremely happy to be home.

And what better day to return home than Valentine's Day? She supposed that was the reason for her mother's scavenger hunt. Resa, still without her voice, had welcomed Meggie home with such exuberance; no words had been needed, as tears of joy had streamed down her face. After a short exchange of dialogue, her mother had thrust the note into her hands with a knowing smile and went to Mo to receive the flowers.

Meggie sighed and looked around the foyer. Dustfinger and Farid were nowhere to be seen. That was unusual. She had assumed at least Farid would be chomping at the bit to see her. For a short time, they had dated, but it hadn't worked out for whatever reason. Luckily, they were still the best of friends and they shared all types of stories, jokes, and secrets. Farid had definitely grown into a handsome young man in the seven years he'd been in this world. Of course Meggie found him attractive, she just wasn't attracted _to _him anymore, as much as she had been at twelve and thirteen. Now, her heart yearned for a different set of lips on hers, different arms to wind around her waist and hold her close.

In the garden, as the note had instructed her to search there for her treasure or the next clue, Meggie began to pace. There was a small herb patch enclosed by The Fairy roses grown so close together that it formed a protective hedge. Only a small section was left open, allowing access to and from the herbs. Outside of the rose hedge were a few trees, old ones that had been there for decades, and young ones that she and Mo had planted. Some wooden furniture was nestled on a terrace in the corner of the yard, against the fence; it called to her invitingly, asking her to curl up and read for a few hours. It was a tempting notion, but curiosity was plaguing her too strongly.

In the corner opposite the terrace was her garden. A tall oak stood among different plants, ones that reminded Meggie of the Inkworld, as she called it. Between Dustfinger and Resa, she'd had plenty of plants to consider for her garden. In all, she was proud of it. It was small, only one or two beds, and didn't look terribly spectacular at the moment due to the season, but it was lovely in the summer.

So lost was the young woman, thinking about the Inkworld that she almost missed the odd clump of leaves a few meters away from the foxglove. (Meggie was extremely glad that Gwin wasn't a vegetarian, or else she wouldn't have planted half of what was in her garden, including her favorite foxglove.) Slowly, she walked over to the pile of leaves. Below a few oak leaves, plastic wrap glinted in the sun. It was covering…a book?

Meggie knelt in the damp leaves to retrieve the plastic covered book. It had been bound by Mo, she could tell that much immediately upon seeing it. She removed the plastic wrap and tucked it into her jacket pocket. When she thumbed through, she gasped. It was a collection of all of her articles from the last six months, including excerpts and illustrations from the books she'd chosen. As she leafed through the pages, another note fell to the ground. Again, it was in her mother's hand.

"_Books lined up side to side,_

_Whispering words covers won't hide,_

_Fragrance fills the air, so sweet_

_Only a few more things make the day complete."_

With a slight furrowing of her brow, Meggie considered which room she was to visit next. The library seemed an obvious choice, but which one? Elinor had contributed quite a few books to their collection over the last handful of years. Since they'd had to leave them all behind so many years ago, Meggie had felt an odd sense of longing and homesickness that hadn't always been present in her mind, only when she was in Elinor's library. It had increased when they moved a few miles away three years previous, and had only disappeared when their libraries had been full. There were two in their house, one on the ground floor and one upstairs near her room. It was a good thing, Meggie mused as she walked into the kitchen, that the house was rather large with many rooms.

Meggie paused in her treasure hunt long enough to fill a mug with coffee. After her flight out of London, and the drive from the airport, she was slightly travel weary. Resa entered the kitchen with a smile. She had just popped a chocolate into her mouth, presumably from the heart-shaped box Mo had purchased for her. Still smiling, she offered one to Meggie, who simply opened her mouth in assent. With a gentle laugh, her mother placed the chocolate between her teeth.

"So," Meggie began after she had swallowed the chocolate piece. It had been filled with a creamy truffle mixture. "Where are Dustfinger and Farid? Did they forget I was coming home today or something?" She was only a little stung that they still hadn't shown up to welcome her back. The very least they could have done, if they really were gone, was wait until she'd returned then left for who knew where. The two men didn't travel as often as they used to, but they still spent a fair amount of time gallivanting around the country side, performing fire tricks. They would show up in the middle of the night while everyone else was asleep like ghosts, and they sometimes left the same way too.

Resa blushed slightly and shook her head. Then she signed to Meggie, "They're home." That was all. No explanation as to their current whereabouts or why they hadn't greeted her yet. Meggie's pride stung a little more, and her heart panged just slightly…

"Oh. Well, I guess they're just carried away in something," she murmured, finishing her coffee. She rinsed the mug and put it in the dishwasher. When she turned around, there was an anxious look on Resa's face. It disappeared quickly after Meggie saw it. "What is it?"

Another blush. Something was up. Resa shook her head and her hands fluttered quickly, like birds, so quickly that Meggie couldn't quite keep up with her. At last, she understood. "It's nothing. Do you like your book?"

Evasion. Slowly, Meggie nodded her head. "It's lovely, thank you. I love the marble colors." It was a mixture of a bright, clear blue and a deep, vivid green. It reminded her of someone's eyes… She shook her head to herself. What could Resa be evading? It was so odd. Perhaps she was trying not to give away the next step in the scavenger hunt. Suspicion was beginning to cloud her mind, however; why would Resa be out and among the house if she was the one who had put it together? Didn't the person orchestrating the hunt usually stay behind the scenes to put things out? It couldn't be Mo, since he'd picked her up from the airport. Unless…Resa had only set out the first steps?

With a sly grin, Meggie kissed her mother's cheek and stepped toward the doorway. "This is fun," she said over her shoulder as she left the room.

The downstairs library was at the end of the hallway. It had a view of the mountains out the windows. The windows on the western side of the room had drapes covering them, shielding the room from the harsh afternoon sun. Meggie smiled as she walked through the tall shelves. The room wasn't especially large. It had been the first library in their house, and had quickly filled up. Though only four shelves sat in the middle of the room, the walls were lined with them, filled to bursting with books. They didn't keep the books in such disarray as before, like in the old days before Resa came back in their lives. She liked things tidy, which was fine with Meggie; it made it easier to find books.

When Meggie had searched the room and found nothing, she frowned slightly. Not here, she told herself. She shrugged and headed for the door. She was just about to close the door when she thought she heard a hissing noise, like someone shushing someone else. She paused for a moment, listening. A moment later, she heard the tea kettle whistling from the kitchen. Resa was making tea.

Slowly, Meggie climbed the stairs. Mo had already taken her bags to her room; they were no longer at the foot of the staircase. Mo. Meggie loved her father dearly. He would give anything for her, and she for him as well. She considered herself the luckiest girl in the world to have such a wonderful man to call "Dad", or more often, "Mo." She smiled as she passed the workshop door. His voice carried out, smooth as velvet, as he sang. He sounded even lovelier when he sang, if possible, than when he read aloud.

In the second library, Meggie felt more at home. This one had a door that adjoined to her bedroom. Once, it had probably been a nursery or something along those lines. Predictably, the majority of the books in this room belonged to her. It had windows on the east side of the house, and all the drapes were open. She could see the lake from this room; it brought a smile to her face. Their house wasn't right on the lake, but it was close enough.

A sweet fragrance filled the air as soon as she entered the room. Meggie followed her nose to the corner close to the door to her room. This time, she found a dozen roses and a small box of chocolates. Leaning against the vase was another note. When Meggie picked it up, it had a faint hint of smoke to it. Odd…

"_Back out to the garden you go,_

_There are new seeds you will hopefully sew_

_Heart light like a dove,_

_Filled brimming with love,_

_The meaning of this you soon will know."_

Cryptic…yet romantic, in an awkward sort of way. Meggie's suspicions were confirmed. She had already doubted it was only her mother's scavenger hunt, and was beginning to think it wasn't her father's. This last note seemed to lead her further away from her parents and more toward, well, someone else. Was it Farid? Had he realized after years of just friendship, he wanted to try dating again? And if so, what would she say to him? This was an awful lot of work for her to shoot him down. Could she try to date him again if he asked her? Or what if…?

Meggie shook her head, not allowing her to think that way. Dustfinger didn't think of her like. If anything, he probably considered her like a daughter. After all, hadn't he had two daughters close to her age in the Inkworld? No, Dustfinger didn't hold her in a romantic light…

With a sigh, and feeling oddly forlorn despite the excitement of her puzzle, Meggie trudged down the stairs. She had snatched up the box of chocolates and had just popped one into her mouth when she reached the bottom of the steps. Farid's laughter sounded from the kitchen; it was loud, awkwardly so. She could hear a door shutting noisily amidst his laughter. He seemed to be trying to hide the sound for his laughs quickly died away as she poked into the kitchen.

"Meggie!" he exclaimed, a smile lighting his face.

It took some effort, but she smiled at him. This wasn't the garden, so she felt she could safely say he wasn't the one leaving her the notes. "Farid," she replied, happy now as he hugged her. "I missed you!"

"I missed you, as well!" he told her when he let her go. "You will have to tell me all about your adventure in London. And I want to know about all of your articles. I read them, every week, while you were gone, but I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the stories you wrote about. Except for mine and Dustfinger's of course." He smiled at her proudly, still so excited that he could read. She had taught him shortly after all that mess with Capricorn. He hadn't taken to it as quickly as he had breathing fire, and he didn't read nearly as much as Meggie, but she was happy that he seemed to enjoy it.

A blush touched her lips as he spoke. "Sure, I'd be glad to tell you about them." She looked around without realizing what, or who she was looking for. Meggie finally registered why it felt so odd to see Farid alone. She suspected Wendy had felt a similar thing when she'd seen Peter Pan's shadow, but not the boy…

"He's outside in the garden," Farid told her with a knowing smile. He quickly cleared his throat at a look from Resa. "What? She's obviously looking for him."

The two began to argue back and forth. Farid couldn't keep up with Resa's fingers most of the time and often lost their arguments, but they were usually in fun and games anyway. Meggie paid them no more mind as she stepped through the door leading outside.

Twilight had fallen. The clouds in the sky were lovely shades of purple, pink, and gold as the sun set behind the mountains. Meggie looked around until she spotted him. The tall figure was standing near her oak tree, shifting from one foot to the other as if impatient or anxious. She hardly dared believe that the last note she'd found, the one she held in her now damp palm, led to him. But what else? It had said the garden, and there he was. She held her breath as she started toward him.

"Dustfinger," she said softly when she was behind him. Oddly, he hadn't turned around to face her. Usually, he would have watched her from the moment she stepped outside; no one could sneak up on him.

The fire-eater slowly turned to face her. His brilliant green eyes shone in the retreating sunlight. Meggie's breath caught in her throat when he tried a smile on her. "Princess," he murmured, opening his arms to her. Meggie went willingly into his embrace, searching for something, anything different, something that would explain the peculiarity of the hunt.

When he let her go to arm's length, Dustfinger reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, leatherbound book. Something else from Mo's workshop. Gold leaf edged the leather and a heart with flames was in the center of the cover. It sent shivers down Meggie's spine, as the heart reminded her so of the cover of Inkheart. What was this about…?

"Happy Valentine's Day," he told her, smiling awkwardly. "I didn't know what else to get you, so I figured a notebook would be appropriate." He rubbed the back of his neck like a nervous schoolboy.

Meggie leafed through the pages. They were all empty, awaiting her pen to adorn them with beautiful words. Tears sprang to her eyes unexpectedly, surprising even her. When she looked up at the fire-eater, she smiled fully. "It's wonderful, thank you," she said expressively. Then she realized: "I didn't get you anything!" She blushed, embarrassed. She hadn't really thought to get anything for any of her family, as busy as she had been with the internship and transfer papers; the significance of the day had honestly slipped her mind until she'd seen the flowers and chocolates from Mo for her mother.

Dustfinger shook his head and lifted his hand to swipe a tear from her face. "You don't need to get me anything," he told her with a smile. "You're back, that's more than enough for me." There was something behind his eyes, something unspoken.

An argument formed on her tongue but Dustfinger spoke again first. "What did you think of the little game?" he asked her. He sat down on the leaves surrounding the flowerbed and patted the earth beside him.

Meggie sat down with a smile and shook her head. "That was your idea?" she asked.

"Heavens, no," Dustfinger answered, laughing. "It was your mother's. I just wanted to give you the notebook and call it that, but she insisted, especially after—" He stopped abruptly, a furious blush filling his cheeks.

Curious, Meggie looked at him. She set the notebook to one side and took his hand "After what?" she asked. Dustfinger said nothing. A minute passed and he still held his silence. Meggie squeezed his hand for his attention. "Hey, after what?" Her voice was impatient.

Dustfinger sighed and looked at her. "After I told her and your father how I felt about you," he said quickly. He spit the words out quickly and looked away from her, obviously afraid of what he'd see on her face.

Meggie's initial reaction was shock. How he felt about her? What was that supposed to mean? She wasn't stupid, or naïve, so she could assume that he didn't have such platonic feelings for her as she'd originally thought. But just what did he mean exactly? What type of feelings? Not being able to help the surprise clearly on her face, she reached out with her other hand and touched his cheek. It took some effort, but she turned his face back to hers. "Dustfinger?" She couldn't think of anything else, couldn't figure out how to voice all the thoughts clambering through her head. Was there a chance that he might return her feelings?

There were another few moments of silence between them in which Dustfinger wouldn't meet her eyes. When he did at last, Meggie swallowed hard for the sight she saw in his gaze. She didn't dare think it to herself though, not until he said it…

"For years," he began as he took her hand from his cheek; his voice was hoarse in trepidation, "I've been fighting this, telling myself it was wrong, telling myself _I_ was wrong. I just kept telling myself it was because you were almost the same age as Brianna, then I told myself it was because you looked like your mother."

Meggie furrowed her brow. "You're not making any sense," she murmured.

Dustfinger swore. "I know," he huffed, "I know it makes no sense. But I just can't help myself." He finally smiled at her and Meggie's breath caught in her throat again.

"Can't help what?" she breathed, though she already knew the answer.

"Can't help myself from loving you, Meggie," Dustfinger said at last then kissed her.

It was some weeks later when Meggie found the inscription in her notebook. She'd been writing her account of that Valentine's Day for an article in the magazine and had just finished recounting how her father had guessed Dustfinger's feelings for her, or so the fire-eater had told her. She had turned the page to write about Resa's part in the riddles and clues when she'd seen it. In her mother's handwriting, as the woman had played the part of the romantic throughout the lead up to her relationship with Dustfinger, Meggie read her favorite love poem. Under it, in a hesitant but mostly legible hand were the words,

"_His words, but my heart."_

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